


a sunbeam in your hands

by peachiegirlie



Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Domestic, F/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, OR IS IT??, Pining, Unrequited Crush, lots of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachiegirlie/pseuds/peachiegirlie
Summary: Yor's finally married, with a home to call her own and even a child to raise and yet she's never been so truly alone.They're not a real family.
Relationships: Anya Forger & Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess
Comments: 55
Kudos: 314





	a sunbeam in your hands

**Author's Note:**

> my girl yor briar deserves the world

In her defence, it had been a long night. Well, it'd been a fun night. Probably. 

Yor couldn't really vouch for it being long or not, seeing as everything had begun to blur around the time she started on the Shiraz. Or was it the dry white Yuri had brought over? 

In any case, as she drags her leaden body into an upright position in bed, she remembers the painfully tense first hour of the dinner and then not very much after that. Snippets that she couldn't sort from reality, a drunken haze and vivid dreams. 

_Yuri, brandishing a rose stem at Loid and threatening to disembowel him with it if he hurt his sister in any way._ That definitely happened, Yor scoffs at the memory. Her brother can really be ridiculous. 

_Yor lying on her kitchen table throwing her needles up at the ceiling, trying to stick them up there while Anya's toys sharpen them for her._ She shudders at the thought - if that had actually happened she's sure she'd be in a cold prison cell right now. Also, Anya's probably wouldn't offer up her toys for such a dangerous task. 

_Loid pulling her back flush against his chest and gently manoeuvring her head to lean back against the warmth of his throat, chin tucked carefully on top of her head._ Huh. That can't have actually happened. Although if it had, that would've been nice. Yor chides herself gently as her cheeks colour, cutting of that particularly enticing train of thought. 

Sure, her and Loid were married but - they weren't _married._

That had been made clear to her from the start. They slept in separate rooms, exchanged simple pleasantries about their work, and the extent of their physical contact came from brief brushes of fingertips as washed dishes were passed to and fro to be dried and put away. It was a perfect system, and neither of them needed or wanted anything more than someone else by their side to stave off any curious eyes. 

And of course - Anya. Yor couldn't help but grin softly, throwing herself back against the pillows at the thought of the young girl and the shenanigans that always seemed to explode around her. She'd do anything for that girl - smart and kind and thoughtful and so very eager to learn and grow. 

Yor had never really considered having kids. She'd raised Yuri on her own and as much as she adored her brother, she'd never really had a chance to be a kid herself, never really had a choice about going into the contract killing business and never really been Yor. But then Yuri was suddenly all grown up, with a degree and a job and a new apartment 40 minutes away from hers and she hadn't ever thought about what she'd do after he started his own life. 

Turns out having spent your entire teenagehood and young adult life looking after your younger brother and killing influential businessmen and politicians alike didn't leave much room for social development. 

Her first years after Yuri moved out were miserable and friendless. The women at work were gorgeous and charismatic, but she knew they could tell when she laughed a bit too loud and a bit too late at their jokes, and they definitely didn't think much of her plain clothes. 

Now, though - well, now she got to titter with the ladies about her husband's handsome face and sigh gently in exasperation about how he messes up her kitchen storage by putting the wine glasses with the normal glasses, and gush over Anya's latest drawing. Then at the end of all of it she got to collapse on a squishy sofa with a child in her lap and her husband cooking dinner. 

Except, Loid wasn't actually her husband, and Anya wasn't really her daughter. 

A cold, hard sensation coiled unpleasantly in her stomach. It shouldn't have mattered to her that none of this was real, Loid and Anya had already been extremely generous and kind to help her out and let her sleep in their apartment and eat their food. And yet, as each day passed with Loid's small grin as he bids her a good day at work and Anya's bright face as she recounts her dramatic days at school, Yor sometimes gets caught up in act. There are some days where reality wrenches her out of her happy family daydream and she's left aching with emptiness that lodges itself firmly in her ribcage. 

On those days she combats the loneliness the same way she had when Yuri left - she wakes early to go to work and returns well after the sun has set. She feels guilty every time she comes home to a cold bowl of food left on the table and Loid and Anya asleep on the couch, but it's the guilt that reminders her she _does_ have something to be guilty for. Those two had been a family, they'd been happy without her. No matter how Loid assured her she was helping them out too, she knew the debt was quite a bit deeper on her end. 

A soft tap on the door startles her upright again, throbbing head protesting at the sudden jolt. 

"Yor, are you awake?" Loid's voice is muffled through the wood of the door, but the sudden sensation of his arms around her waist and her back against his solid chest bursts into her mind once more and she resists the urge to slap her burning cheeks. 

"Y-yes!" she manages to squeak out, cursing mentally at her vivid imagination. He may be her husband but that gave her traitorous brain no right to conjure up such ridiculous scenes. 

It takes a second before she realised Loid is speaking again. "...eggs and Anya wanted pancakes too, so it's all on the table when you're ready." 

"You guys start eating," Yor says, sliding her protesting body out of bed and rummaging around for some pants, "I'll be out in a sec." She thinks she hears Loid hum in assent before the slide of his slippers against the floorboards tells her he's gone. She lets out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and immediately wants to laugh at herself. 

_Look at you,_ Yor scolds internally, _blushing and stammering over an invitation to **breakfast.** You've certainly gone soft._ She decides there's probably worst things in the world. 

Yor succeeds in acquiring some hangover appropriate pants (soft, baggy cotton pajama pants with bright pink flamingos), and pauses to pull her hair into something more presentable than its current shaggy mess. 

She's interrupted from her self-scrutiny by a loud bang and then furious pounding on the door. 

"MA!" BANG, "MA!" BANG, "I made you some PANCAKES!" Anya's little voice is frantic enough for Yor to decide breakfast is more important than wallowing in her room, and she throws the door open to scoop the little girl into her arms. 

"Hm, pancakes sound yummy, but maybe I'll gobble you up for my breakfast instead!" She growls playfully, chomping softly on Anya's little fists as she squirms and screams with laughter in her arms. 

"No! No! I'm gobbled!" Anya thrashes about in her arms a bit more before falling limp in with a dramatic, gurgled gasp. Yor's chomps turn into soft kisses she presses against Anya's round cheeks, revelling in the little giggle it elicits from the "dead" corpse in her arms. Much nicer than the ones at work, she thinks, nose wrinkling slightly at the image. 

Anya's "corpse" miraculously reanimates itself, and Yor finds a firm, wet kiss being pressed against her own forehead. "Mama," Anya intones seriously, "I'm not really dead. You didn't gobble me too much." Yor nearly lets a laugh slip at the theatrics, but quickly settles for a serious nod in the face of Anya's intensity. 

Loid lets out a breathy chuckle (which does not send Yor's heartbeat rocketing upwards), and sets down a third plate. "Come and eat, before it gets cold." 

Yor carefully sets Anya down into her own chair, before taking her own seat. There's quite a large spread of food, which is very much unlike Loid's preferred 'a single plain omelette is a sufficiently nutritious breakfast' stance, and sure enough the tips of his ears are a faint pink when she wonders aloud at the mix of pancakes, toast, eggs and jam.

"Anya was absolutely certain she wanted pancakes this morning," he says softly, carefully spreading a pat of butter on his daughter's very optimistic stack of pancakes and resolutely avoiding Yor's eyes, "but I figured you'd want something light after last night..." 

Now Yor is blushing, feeling equal parts horrified at her drunken lack of self restraint, thrilled that Loid obviously cared enough to consider her hungover state and embarrassed that she's suddenly swooning over a single kind gesture. _He's just kind. He's like this with everyone because he's a good person._

Even so, she can't help the grin on her face as she lets Loid spoon scrambled eggs on her plate, nudging the tray of the toast her way as he hands it back to her. 

"Thank you, Loid." she says, very proud of herself for speaking the words without her tongue stuttering about like her heartbeat. "Sorry about last night," she adds for good measure. Loid merely shrugs, though the lobes of his ears are steadily joining the tips in turning redder and redder. 

"You haven't seen your brother in a while, it was natural to celebrate." 

Anya, previously occupied with hoovering a frankly disturbing amount of whole pancakes into her mouth, lets out a whine. "Uncle Yuri was here and you guys had a party? Without ME?!" Loid huffs at her antics, but Yor just smiles at the young girl. 

"It was very late, we didn't want to wake you," she explains, reaching over to pet a hand reassuringly on Anya's crown, "besides, it wasn't really a party. There were only us three, and we just talked!" _And got drunk. And got in a fistfight. And maybe also snuggled._

Anya's pout only deepens further. " _I_ like snuggles too!" Yor promptly chokes around her mouthful of eggs, while Loid's mug lands on the table with an uncharacteristically loud thud. 

"Talking is not the same as snuggling," Loid says, as Yor attempts to stave off her coughing fit as best she can with eggs halfway down her windpipe. His voice is almost imperceptibly higher as he continues, "I did not snuggle with your Uncle Yuri." He slides his coffee mug across to a still spluttering Yor, who gulps a mouthful down gratefully. 

"But you snuggled with Mama! Without _ME_!" Anya repeats, one little hand smacking the table top for added emphasis. Yor wants to crawl back into bed and die of humiliation. Her and Loid most definitely have never and will likely never snuggle. She'd be glad of even a shoulder squeeze- a hug or cuddle would likely cause her heart to explode right out of her chest and her brain to melt, so it's really for the best. 

"You were asleep," Loid argues, still sounding slightly strangled, "I wasn't going to wake you up to come cuddle on the couch with us." Yor suddenly can't breathe. 

"What?" She squeaks, eyes wide. 

"What?" Loid echoes.

_Oh no. Oh no no no._

"You - we - my head - on your - your shoulder-" 

She can feel her face steadily growing hotter and hotter, as she frantically attempts to speak. There is no way the scene from earlier actually happened, Loid's arms around her and her head back against his shoulder and his heartbeat steady behind her - it can't be - 

Loid's ears are practically red enough to let off steam, and he busies himself with cutting the pancakes in front of him into exactly identical small squares. 

"You were having trouble staying upright and -" 

Yor groans, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. Anya frowns, "Why? Was Mama sick?". 

"Uh- no," Loid ever so eloquently answers, "She was just - tired. So, I had to help her sit up a bit. That's all." 

_That's all._

It's as if a bucket of cold water comes crashing down on her. She has to remind herself to breath deeply, trying in vain to bat away the sudden feeling of longing. She'd got so drunk she hadn't even been able to sit straight, and Loid had to step in to play the part of caring husband in front of her overbearing brother. That's all. 

She feels - she doesn't even know what she feels right now. 

Embarrassed that she put on such a wild display. 

Ashamed that Loid had to trouble himself to put up with her. 

Disappointed that the moment of warmth hadn't meant anything she'd wanted it to. 

"Mama?" Anya's worried little voice brings her back to the table, now cold pancakes and eggs laid out in front of her. "You're okay now, though, right?" 

She musters up what she hopes is a reassuring smile. "Of course, your dad took great care of me!" She resents the shrillness in her voice. She doesn't risk a glance at Loid, instead muttering a small excuse me before taking her plate to the kitchen. 

Yor mechanically scrapes the leftovers into the bin, washing the plate and placing it in the drying rack alongside the wine glasses from last night. _Loid must have washed them after I went to bed._ She leans her unsteady hands on the counter top, eyes fluttering closed as she wills her emotions back into control. 

"Yor?" 

She whirls around, hands wrenching off the counter top to fiddle with the hem of her shirt. Loid stands in the doorway, several plates balanced precariously in one hand and a mug in the other. From somewhere in the living room, Yor can hear Anya complaining loudly to her toys that she'd, "missed the party of the century!"

"Are you alright?" Loid questions, coming into the kitchen to set the plates down before handing her the cup. It's the gently fragranced jasmine tea she'd had at a cafe they'd stopped at on a family outing. She hadn't even noticed the cup at the table. 

Loid's concern is almost stifling under the weight of her feelings and the sudden tightness of the kitchen space. She slips past him, careful not to spill the tea. 

"I'm fine, just a slight headache as expected," she says, forcing out a small chuckle, "I'm going to lie down for a bit." Loid doesn't reply, just nodding softly, before turning towards the sink and flicking the tap on. 

She tells herself not to be disappointed. What did she expect? This isn't a real marriage. This isn't a real family. 

Sighing softly once in the comfort of her own room, Yor crawls under the blankets, draws herself into a pathetic little ball and wills herself to sleep. 

It's almost impossible to close her eyes without the scene from the couch replaying in her mind. She remembers it more clearly now she knows it's real. 

She remembers she was swaying, so she sat down, except even sitting down the world was tilting in a rather uncomfortable way. Then, Loid was there pressing a glass of water into her hand, and coaxing her to lean back against the couch cushion. She remembers complaining loudly that the cushion was too soft, and that she'd sink right into the centre of the earth if she lay back against them. Yuri had begun to cry dramatically, begging Loid to save his sister from certain death. And so, Loid had manoeuvred her arms to her side she could lean against his shoulder. Yuri had protested that Loid seemed too reluctant to touch his sister, and was surely not affectionate enough for a married man. Didn't Loid know his sister was the most perfect woman any man could have the great fortune of marrying? Then, with much sighing and a few chuckles at her drunken expense, Loid had pulled her almost onto his lap and encircled her securely with his arms to prevent her from rolling right out of his grip face first onto the carpet. The night had concluded pretty soon after that, with both siblings more than ready to sleep. 

Now, in the harsh light of daytime, Yor would like nothing more than to seize several handfuls of her hair and yank them out right from the root. There's no way Loid would ever see her in a respectable light again, she's damn lucky he hasn't decided she's a terrible influence on his daughter and kicked her to the curb. A terrible tendency towards nervousness, a terrible cook and now a terrible drunk. (career as a contract killer notwithstanding) 

She flings the blanket off in frustration, digging the heels of her hands roughly into her eyes. 

Why in the world had she ever thought she was qualified to do this? 

When it becomes evident her spiralling thoughts won't allow any sleep, Yor resigns herself to merely lying in bed, imagining all the ways Loid might tell her he wants her to leave. 

In her favourite scenario, Loid allows a single tear to trail down his cheek as he watches her walk away, reluctant to see her go but knowing it's for the best. 

The most common scenario, however, features Loid's expression like a jade mask as he informs her that this arrangement is no longer working and he expects her out of his apartment by the next morning. 

Yor knows, realistically, that had Loid really wanted her to leave after last night's fiasco then he would have already spoken to her. But it doesn't stop the guilt from clawing it's way up from deep inside her. 

She was foolish to think this family was hers, that she was entitled to anymore than they'd already given her. She's finally married, with a home to call her own and even a child to raise and yet she's never been so truly alone. 

Hours later, after the sun has passed steadily through it's peak and is heading slowly towards a soft sunset, there's a soft knock on her door. 

"Yor, I've got to run downstairs to meet a colleague, could you watch Anya for a minute?" Loid's voice is quiet, and Yor wonders how he knew she would be awake. "There's some painkillers on the kitchen bench, and some electrolyte solution." Then, his footsteps retreat and there's the telltale clack of the front door. 

Yor gives herself a single extra second to lay in bed, before padding out to the lounge. Anya is engrossed her daily ritual of watching the afternoon rerun of the previous day's episode of her favourite spy show in preparation for the new nighttime episode. The little girl is, as always, surrounded by her plushie friends, and is carefully explaining past plot points and context for all the action on screen. 

With a soft smile, Yor heads to the kitchen, finding the promised painkillers and electrolyte solution as well as a jam sandwich cut neatly into triangle quarters. She takes the medication and the drink, feeling too unsettled to think about food, and moves out of the kitchen to just outside the living room to watch Anya. 

She doesn't mean to peek, but Anya's just too cute when she gets caught up in her spy fantasies and Yor loves to listen to all her made-up tales and wonder where she thought up these incredibly detailed adventures. The one where the spy has to go undercover and rescue a lovely couple's first date from disaster is Yor's current favourite. 

Yor's emptiness ebbs away with each passing moment she spends watching the little girl. How could she have ever felt lonely with the bright presence of Anya in the house? She may be small for her age, but her shrill, excited voice and her unbridled energy seep into every warm crevice of the apartment. 

She's startled out of her amusing Anya-watching by a pair of large, warm hands settling gently on her shoulders. 

"Yor?" Loid's voice is - very, very close to her. Yor has to consciously unfurl her fingers, where they've clenched into fists reflexively. _How the hell had he managed to sneak up like that._ She doesn't dare turn around.

Yor can somehow sense Loid's frown even from behind her, and the pair of hands begin to move gently down her arms, until she's relaxed a fraction more into their hold. She still can't bring herself to turn around. 

"Are you feeling better?" The hands travel back up her arms, not quite reaching her shoulders before smoothing their way back down towards her elbows. 

"Yes," she manages to breathe out, and is rewarded with a gentle squeeze around her upper arms. Loid hums a pleased note almost right by the shell of her ear, and if she closed her eyes to concentrate she could probably feel his soft exhales on her skin. She doesn't let herself succumb to that instinct just yet. 

Yor can feel the tension from the startle of being caught unaware continue to bleed out of her limbs, and she sways a bit as she becomes more and more boneless. 

The hands trailing delicious warmth up and down her arms suddenly disappear, leaving Yor feeling cold and bare. A protesting whine threatens to spill embarrassingly out of her, before she jolts again as two hands brush softly, almost tentatively, against her waist. 

"Okay?" Loid murmurs, thumbs ghosting small circles at her sides without tightening his hold so as to let her slip away. She doesn't - can't - entertain the thought of pulling away for even a moment. 

"Yes." she whispers back, feeling even more unsteady on her feet. Her heart threatens to beat right out of her chest, and she wonder dumbly if Loid can hear it. 

If Loid can sense the turmoil he's thrown her into, he doesn't show it, instead settling a hand on either side of Yor's hips. His grip is gentle, and his hands remain still this time, seemingly content to just let warmth pass between them.

Yor feels alight at his touch, both with the giddy thrill of affection and embarrassment at her reaction. A few shoulder rubs and she's practically a puddle on the floor! She isn't sure whether to be furious with her traitorous body or with Loid and whatever joke he's playing at. Yet still, she can't bring herself to turn around and break the softly glowing shell they've become encased in. Even if she never has anyone hold her like this again, she'll be glad for this moment. 

All too soon, the hands are moving again and Yor braces for the cold loss of contact once more. Instead, Loid's hands slide around her towards her stomach, coming to rest flat against her navel, one atop the other. She barely has time to comprehend the dizzying movement before Loid steps up flush behind her and promptly hooks his chin over her shoulder. 

"Okay?" he asks again, breath ghosting softly across her cheek, checking her expression from the corner of his eye. 

It's - a lot. 

Loid's steady hands splayed across her stomach, heavy and warm but grounding more than restrictive. 

Loid's solid chest against her back, the regular rise and fall of his breathing feeling awfully out of sync with the pattering heartbeat that Yor is having trouble distinguishing from her own. 

Loid's cheek resting softly against her shoulder, head tilted to study her face, eyes careful and kind and betraying the slightest hint of his own nervousness. 

She can't bring herself to speak, can't trust her voice not to tremble and her words not to tumble from 'yes' to 'I love you, I love you, I love you'. She merely brings her own hands, small and shaking just a bit, to rest atop of his, squeezing gently to reassure him she's okay. His hands flex for a moment, a small acknowledgement of her reply, before he tucks his head to rest in the junction between her shoulder and her neck, lips barely a hair's width from her skin and soft breaths leaving goosebumps in their wake.

She doesn't turn around, doesn't lift his chin to look him in the eye, doesn't brush her lips against his own like she knows she wants to. 

Instead, she watches their daughter whirl about the living room with two stuffed toys in each hand, regaling her inanimate audience with a wild tale about bombs and spies and heroes. She drinks in the sensation of the afternoon sun against her bare feet. She melts into Loid's embrace like a loving wife instead of an assassin in a sham marriage. She smiles. 

Against the curve of her shoulder, in the crook of her neck, she feels Loid smile too.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! come chat with me on [tumblr](https://peachie-girlie.tumblr.com)
> 
> UPDATE: check out this [BEAUTIFULLY tender art](https://starcider.tumblr.com/post/622575270630686720/back-hug-i-thank-anon-for-recommending-this-fic) by [starcider](https://starcider.tumblr.com). THANK YOU SO MUCH and follow their tumblr for some A+ spy x family art and content!!


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